


Everything's Eventual

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-12
Updated: 2002-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 12:10:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sky didn't fall and the world didn't come to an end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything's Eventual

## Everything's Eventual

by canadian_snoopy

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/canadian_snoopy>

* * *

_Disclaimer_ : Not mine and borrowed without permission. _Author's Note_ : My first attempt at anything resembling sex (in the written form, I mean) and thus, more than open to ridicule. Feel free to mock. Also, my attempt to answer slodwick's Stephen King Title Challenge; make of that what you will. Thanks to Tresca for betaing -- you rock babe. 

<<<<>>>>

Lex knew himself well enough to realize that there was currently some portion of his brain busying itself by trying to figure out how he'd managed to make this leap from A to fucking _F_ when all other attempts had failed so spectacularly to do so. 

He was a scientist first and foremost and he hadn't gone into biochemistry solely because he liked to make things go 'boom' or because of the interesting chemicals a good bunsen burner could give rise to, as he'd discovered during his MU days. 

He didn't like things that involved leaps of logic and science fiction rather than science fact. He'd always identified with Scully rather than with Mulder -- and the fact that she was a hot babe had helped too, of course. 

But this.... 

_This_ was going to take some mightyly creative leaps in logic from him because it had come from fucking left field. 

Oh God help him, he was making _baseball_ analogies now. 

Someone needed to shoot him and put him out of his misery... as soon as Clark was done turning him into a limp mass of muscle and bone. 

Against the wall in his office. 

In the middle of the fucking _afternoon_. 

There was a low hum of appreciation from Clark when he managed to _finally_ untuck Lex's shirt from his pants and his hands met slightly damp skin. Lex's elbows jerked back against the wall rather uncomfortably but his palms encountered nothing but good things, skin that was smooth as silk and warm and _Christ_ \-- he was in serious fucking trouble if he was going to get so fucking melodramatic at this stage of the game. 

"Lex?" 

He considered it a vague insult to his technique that Clark was still verbal, even given the fact that the rumble of Clark's voice against his throat was doing wonders to the solidity of his knees. He let one of his hands travel to Clark's chest, difficult considering that they were pressed as close as it was possible for two very horny men to be. That was one of the wonderful things about sex -- it bent several scientific laws in new and exciting ways. He found a nipple and flicked it with his index finger, smiling into the side of Clark's head when the boy groaned again. 

If there was a way to market Clark's noises, he would be a very, very rich man. As it was, since he already _was_ a very, very rich man, he wasn't going to share. 

All thoughts of sharing (or any concept thereof) fled his beleagured mind when Clark's mouth decended on his again, teeth clacking together briefly before some sort of coordination came into play. Tiny lick against the scar on his lip and Lex made the sort of noise that could be only be -- very shamefully, he thought to himself in some corner of his mind -- called a whimper. He let his mouth drop open and he could _feel_ Clark's brief grin before his tongue slipped inside. 

Oh Jesus fucking _Christ_ , he was in trouble. 

The world's most innappropriate tickle when Clark's tongue ran along the top of his mouth and the last thing he wanted to do was laugh. Strong muscle there that made Lex imagine the sort of things that he had worked so very hard for so very long not to think about and Lex forced himself to push away from the wall. He felt Clark stagger back a bit and that was enough to flip the boy around. 

Clark, pressed against the wall, breathing hard with lips that looked like he'd been sucking on a cheery lolipop for _hours_ and Lex groaned like a man who knew he'd been bested. Any thought of leaving, of pushing this boy away before things got any further, suddenly seemed so abhorent that he did that which felt best, which was grab the loopholes of Clark's jeans and jerk himself forward, allowing himself the pleasure of just _thrusting_ against the hardness he found there. 

Clark gave him the sort of broken moan that made Lex feel like he could conquer the _universe_ , let alone the world, and he kissed him again. 

Kissed him like it was air and he couldn't survive more than a second without it, like Lex had all the time in the world to make Clark _moan_. 

Clark's hands were resting on his hips, twitching against the skin there like it _hurt_ him not to do more, and he pulled him forward whenever Lex got too distracted by the kissing and groping to remember that teenaged boys had dicks too. 

He pulled his mouth away and felt Clark's huff of air against his lips, warm breath that smelled faintly like the tuna sandwich he'd apparently had for lunch and the piece of peppermint gum he'd chewed on briefly after class. 

If he started getting hard everytime he had a whiff of tuna, he was going to _hurt_ the boy. 

"Clark?" 

Clark raised his eyes and continued to pant like he had asthma and just _couldn't_ catch his breath. The hands still rested on his hips and Lex could _feel_ Clark through the layer of denim and that was nearly enough to send his thoughts skittering south once again. 

No no, he had a question to ask. He wanted things to make _sense_. 

Clark licked his lips like he didn't care that Lex was trying to be the logical one here and his mouth suddenly got drier than the Sahara. Clark's eyes were black except for a thin sliver of blue and when he saw that drop of sweat lingering on Clark's temple, he just had to... lick. 

Clark pulled him closer with one arm and raised his other hand to Lex's face and Lex took in how that hand _shook_ , like Clark was a junkie in the midst of withdrawal but Clark didn't seem to care, was apparently only interested in touching his lips, that tiny scar that Clark seemed to be determined to just rub _out_. 

Damn thing was that he probably _could_. 

Fingers against his mouth and Lex let his tongue slip out a bit, watching with dawning wonder as Clark's eyes grew darker still. Fingers against his lips pushed in a bit and stroked his gums for a brief second before pushing into his mouth. 

Just a bit, at first, but Lex couldn't look away, licked the fingers there and that trace of salt made his mouth water, made him drool in a way that wasn't entirely appropriate for a Luthor but that he could bring himself to care much about. Thrust forward again and watched as Clark's mouth dropped open with pleasure, his head suddenly turned upwards like it hurt to watch Lex Luthor with fingers in his mouth. 

The neck was _there_ and he couldn't _not_ take advantage of it so he licked and bit that long column of muscle and bone, thrusting hard whenever Clark made a noise -- and Clark made _many_ noises, most of which made Lex lose what little of his mind he still had left -- and finally he couldn't take it anymore, couldn't handle having all this skin hidden under the flannel and denim. Hurt him with a physical _ache_ to not have the boy's skin and dick and just _everything_ under his fingers. 

His hands dropped to Clark's waist and the sound of the zipper seemed abruptly loud, audible even over the sound of panting and whimpering. There was a stiffled sob and Clark let his head fall forward, finding Lex's mouth like he had a magnet attached there and it was only _natural_ to try and suck the air out of his lungs. 

He felt hands fumble with his belt and Clark groaned like someone who was _broken_ , like someone who had just been clubbed in the head with a two by four. Lex was tempted to help since anything which allowed him to get Clark's hands on him that much faster could only be a Good Thing after all, but his own hands were busy jerking Clark's jeans down. 

Warm, warm boy. Wet boxers and Lex learned by touch, felt the dick hidden under those boxers jerk and leak some more. Clark gasped against Lex's lips and slid his mouth down to his chin, drooling a bit there before clamping with his teeth at the muscle on his shoulder. Busy hands that _finally_ got his pants open and the draft of air that hit his dick was very closely followed by those big, warm hands he'd been admiring for what seemed like forever now. 

"Oh fuck," he groaned, scrambling to get Clark's boxers down as quickly as was humanly possible, all possibilities of finesse and anything resembling skill disappearing with that hand on his cock. "Oh _God_ ," he muttered and Clark moaned again, tilted his head upwards and kissed him, kissed him like it was going to go out of style in the next five minutes and he couldn't bear to not get that last one in. 

He tightened his grip and felt it slide, Clark's cock slippery and big but oh so very warm. Clark's grip was awkward but it got easier with practice, only incoherent noises falling from his lips now. 

He was close, he knew it, realized it by the tension that had gathered on his lower back, ready to knock him on his ass with only a moment's notice and when Clark shuddered, Lex swallowed his moan and felt himself twitch as Clark's dick sputtered come in his hand. 

Another broken sob and Clark slid his thumb over the head of Lex's cock once, twice, three times and Lex felt that tension rise up his legs until there was nothing to do but come, come, come all over Clark Kent's hand. 

<<<<>>>>

"You're not going to tell me what brought this on, are you?" 

Lex knew that he sounded vaguely irritated but from Clark's non-worried reaction, he could have been asking about the Shark's chances for the playoffs. 

Indistinct murmur that could've meant anything and Lex would have been angry if it wasn't for the fact that Clark was drawing the most interesting patterns on his chest. Damned boy made it very hard to stay mad at him when he was doing distracting things to his nipples. 

"It was just... I _told_ you and the sky didn't fall, the world didn't come to an end and...." 

Clark surprised him -- all in all, it seemed to be the theme of the evening -- but the tone of the boy's voice.... It was _off_ in a way that bothered him and Lex raised himself up on his elbows and tried to catch Clark's eyes but they were fixed on his chest. "Clark--" 

"I mean, I know you're not like your father--" 

And Lex stiffened at that, felt that familiar rush of anger, and got ready to push himself on his feet but Clark's arm locked around him and pulled him back down. 

"I _know_ you're not like your father," Clark repeated, giving him a brief glare as he shook him slightly. "And I knew that telling you wouldn't mean that I'd end up on some laboratory somewhere but... Lex, you have to understand; my earliest memory is of my parents sitting me on the kitchen table and telling me that I couldn't tell anyone, that I had to hide my abilities, that I had to keep it _secret_." 

Clark shook his head and leaned back a bit so that his weight was no longer keeping Lex pinned. "I _still_ can't believe that I told you. I mean, I'm _glad_ ," he added hurriedly, smiling crookedly at Lex, who was still fighting the last vestiges of anger. "If I had only one person to tell, I'd want to tell you but... I'm having a hard time believing I told _anyone_." 

It was hard to remember how good a liar Clark was at moments like this, when he was being earnest and bumbling and acting exactly like his sixteen years of age said he should act. He'd known that there was more to the boy even before Clark had come up to his office two days ago and told him _everything_ about the meteor shower and the mutants and the car in the garage that would be melted down into scrap metal next week. He'd _known_ , just like he'd known that Victoria would fall for his trap and that Hamilton would be a valuable addition to his collection of scientific minds. 

Luthor instict, his father would have called it. And really, he didn't want to think about Lionel at this moment because he knew that if his father even caught a _whiff_ of what Clark really was, the boy would be in some secret Luthor Corp dungeon faster than you can say 'super strong alien'. 

That... bothered him. More than he would have believed possible at any other time. 

It spoke well for his humanity, he supposed. 

Clark wasn't lying. Now that he knew the difference, now that he knew what to look for when Clark was telling a bald-faced lie, it seemed obvious. 

However, the boy was still a _very_ good liar and Lex would do well to remember that in the future. 

"Why _did_ you tell me then?" 

Slight pause and Clark looked up and gave him a sunny smile. "For the hot sex, what do you think?" 

Lex blinked and smiled when Clark begun to laugh. Lying again but... Lex just smiled. 

For all of his father's talk that he allowed himself to be ruled by his emotions, Lionel had never understood that patience often bore better fruit than his more extreme methods ever did. 

<<<<>>>>

The End 


End file.
